Persecution and Perseverence
by Silver Shoelaces
Summary: Beginning her Pokemon journey in Nazi Germany, Rachel endures persecution. Wherever she goes, she sees its terrible results, and she joins those who fight it. She finds out that the world is a whole lot bigger than she ever could have imagined.


I was a lot older than most of the other neophyte trainers. My father was labelled as a criminal Pokemon abuser and was under constant watch from the police, and Professor Beech flatly refused to give me a pokemon when I turned eleven, in a faked fear that she might send another poor creature to a miserable life of abuse. It seemed as if I would never recieve a pokemon and forever remain in my father's bleak shadow for three long and dreadful years, until one day I saw a bloody gray bundle of feathers lying in the grass right outside the town.

I was young, naive, and didn't know better, so I ran to Professor Beech.

_::Prologue::_

_"Professor," I shouted, gasping for breath, "I saw an injured Pokemon right out of town! We need to get someone to take it to the Pokemon center!"_

_"Why don't you take it, Rachel?" Prof. Beech muttered, keeping her eyes on the computer and continuing with her work._

_"Professor, didn't you always tell us that it was dangerous to go into the wilderness without a pokemon to protect us from harm?" I cried. "How am I supposed to get to the next city?"_

_"If you're carrying a pokemon, then you __**do**__ have one with you," Prof. Beech carefully articulated, opening another document and continuing to type._

_"How is a half-dead pokemon supposed to protect me, Professor?" I hissed. "Either lend me a Pokemon and be rid of me, or ask someone with a Pokemon to help, but don't be insane."_

_Professor Beech stopped her typing, stood up, and looked down upon me with a steady gaze. "Let me be frank with you, Rachel Ozarno. I saw that Pokemon outside town last night. It's called a Murkrow, and it's the scourge of the night. Those who own Murkrows, raise Murkrows, rescue Murkrows, or even pity Murkrows eventually start to lose their hearts to the darkness. You know, come to think of it, that rag of a Pokemon fits you well, the devil child that you are. It's no wonder, with a father like yours, that you turned out like that." Professor Beech reached into her back pocket and pulled out an item. "Take this for free," she sneered, shoving it into my empty hands. "It's more than you or that filthy Murkrow deserve, and definitely more than your foul father can afford."_

_Professor Beech stared at me for a moment. When I did not move or even respond, she signaled to her assistant, and the two of them heaved me out of the door, corpulently knocking me to the ground. Professor Beech kicked me, and to my astonishment, laughed. "You're finally getting what you deserve, Rachel Ozarno. Your father's already got it, and you've had it coming to you for years. Do you know why your father abused Pokemon?"_

_I glared at her. "Don't talk about what you don't know," I whispered icily. "My father is a good man, no matter what happened in the past."_

_"Don't lower me to your level," Professor Beech shot back, raising her voice. She pressed her foot into my stomach. "Your father is a cheater, a liar, a thief...Your father is a stinkin' **Jew**."_

_That was enough. I drove my knee into the back of her leg with all the force I could muster, scrambled to my feet, and slapped her in the face. "Is that why you hate him,?" I solicited. "You hate him because of his religion?"_

_"I don't need a reason to detest either of you, you Jew. You're just as bad as the Murkrows, the lot of you!"_

_I noticed she was holding a Pokeball in her hand about a minute too late. I turned and dashed toward the town limits._

_"Archie!" I heard Professor Beech call. I heard her favorite Pokemon, her Arcanine, let out a fearsome snarl. "Archie," she repeated softly, "let's show Miss Ozarno just what happened to that Murkrow. Get the Jew, just like you got the Pokemon."_

_I continued running, but the Arcanine was too fast for me. He brought me to the ground in a matter of seconds and set his powerful jaws to work against my arm. His razor teeth pierced me over and over, each bite harder and sharper than the last. I felt the skin ripping from tendon and muscle, but his gargantuan paw muffled my agonized shrieks. As the monster Arcanine readied his killer fire blast, I began to pray that he would somehow miss, that I wouldn't die before I even had a Pokemon._

_The blast never arrived. Instead, I was greeted with an icy spray of water that leaked into my open gashes and stung like acid. I looked up, expecting to see sky, but instead gazed into the weary eyes of my father._

_"I'm so sorry, Rachel," he whispered quickly. "If I had known this was going to happen, I would have sent you away with a Pokemon of my very own from the start. But that would have been suspicious, you see. Now get away quickly, and find the next town before Beech catches up to you! I'll hold her off for a while; she hasn't seen me yet." He lifted me to my feet and pushed me toward the inviting grass outside town._

_Somehow I managed to get to where the Murkrow was lying, unbelievably bloody, by the path. I looked back at my trail of blood and realized that I could not go any farther without a rest. I sat down by the poor creature, scooped it up, and placed it in my lap. There was a pressure on my leg, and I realized that I had subconsciously placed it in my pocket when Beech handed it to me. I eased it out and opened the item._

_That condescending woman had handed me a potion. A stupid potion!_

_I was very ready to fling it out into the distance, but I realized just how badly I needed it. I looked down at the Murkrow. It was barely breathing. I could either use it to rescue the Murkrow, let it fly away, and maybe never make it to the next city, or use it on myself, walk to the next city with no protection from either wild Pokemon or the elements, and still maybe never make it there. I grimaced from my own selfishness. I went to all that trouble for the Murkrow, and I was just planning on leaving it here? I couldn't do that. I didn't know why I was thinking about myself when my goal was to save it. I gulped and poured the potion into the pale yellow beak, once I found it within the mess of feathers._

_My bleeding was lighter. I struggled to my feet and looked at the Murkrow. "I just saved your life, you know," I managed to gasp. "You should be grateful."_

_The ill Murkrow, revitalized by the potion, cawed at me and took off. I wistfully watched it fly away as I began to stagger forward toward my goal. I knew my only chance was to get to the next town's Pokemon center. Maybe they could transfer me to a real hospital there..._

_I felt a nudge at my back, and looked behind me. The Murkrow I had rescued was pushing me, helping me forward. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you for coming back, but you're not strong enough. You can't..." I gasped for air. "You can't get me very far. You're just too...small..."_

_I continued walking, and the Murkrow continued pushing me. "You're wasting your effort," I wheezed. "I'll be okay."_

_The Murkrow cawed loudly, emitting an eerie sound that chilled my bones. From the trees in the distance, there was a muted response, and a small, black cloud started to drift toward me. My mouth fell open in silent astonishment as the cloud of Murkrow overtook me and lifted me into the air. I gasped as the shock of the sudden flight mingled with my loss of blood, and I lost consciousness._

_When I awoke, it was early evening, and the murder of Murkrow was flying closer and closer to the ground. In the distance, I could see the shining roof of the Pokemon center gleaming in the light of the setting sun. The Murkrow gently deposited me on the ground and flew away, one by one, toward the sunset. "Thank you," I called, grateful for the Murkrow for having brought me halfway to my destination. If __that Arcanine had caught up to me, I didn't know what I would have done... _

I stumbled forward on the path for about ten minutes before I almost crashed into somebody.

"Hey! Watch where you're going," an irate voice said. I looked down at its young owner.

"I'm very sorry," I apologised, my voice slightly hollow.

He must have heard how terrible I sounded, because the young boy I bumped into looked me up and down, and panic began to spread across his face. "Oh my gosh, you're injured! I'm so sorry for snapping at you!" He fumbled through his backpack in an utter panic. "Here, miss! Use this potion on your shoulder!"

I took the potion carefully and applied it to my shoulder. The wound instantly began to heal, though it was met by a searing pain in my shoulder.

"Come with me, miss," the boy said, pouring the last drops of another potion into my Murkrow friend's mouth. "Potions are amazing cure-alls, but they're also poisonous to humans. You need to get to the Pokemon center and get treated before it kills you!"

I nodded and clumsily followed him down the path. The Murkrow circled above us silently, with respect eminating from his eyes.

"What's your name, miss?" The boy asked me. "And how'd you and your Pokemon get hurt so badly?"

"My name is Rachel," I answered. "And it's not my Pokemon. One of the people from my town wanted to bully it, so she attacked it with her Arcanine and left it for dead." I winced. "Then, when I wanted to help it, she did the same to me."

The boy gasped. "It's just like they said on the TV!"

"What did they say on the TV?"

"The party has granted civillians permission to beat any Pokemon or humans that stand against it," he explaned, looking at me with incredulity. "You didn't know?"

"My father and I can't afford a television," I explained sadly. "We can't even afford a Pokemon. I don't have a Pokemon."

"Well, that won't do," the boy said, frowning. "You're already grown up. Why can't you get a job and earn enough money for a few Poke balls? You can use your starter Pokemon to catch one."

"But Professor Beech has refused to give me a starter Pokemon for three years," I whispered. "She hates me."

"That's terrible! She should at least res-" the boy was cut off by the appearance of a Tailow. "Hold on a minute," he told me. "Ratsy, go!"

The boy threw his Poke ball and a Rattata appeared. "Ratsy, Quick Attack!" The Tailow fainted in a matter of seconds. After the Rattata returned to its Poke ball, the boy turned to me again. "She should at least respect you," he frowned. "It's not like you could be a Communist. And you're definitely not a gypsy."

"What's a Communist and a gypsy?" I asked.

"I don't know," the boy admitted. "They just said on TV that they're bad people and should be punished. They were going to tell me why, but my mommy turned off the TV before I got to see. Oh, here we are!"

We had indeed made it to town. The town was slightly larger than mine, but it looked very much like my own, quiet and peaceful. Of course, that gilded layer of tranquility belied a sinister custom of hatred. I hoped nobody at this town despised Murkrow just for what they were.

"Let me talk to them for you," the boy said, firmly taking my wrist and pulling me to the Pokemon Center. "They know me, and if I talk to them, they'll just think **I'm** the one who's the idiot."

He must have been right about Potions being poisonous to humans, because I had difficulty concentrating on what he told the kind-looking nurse at the front desk. My head was swimming, and I felt a bit faint.

"...a great bloody gash in her arm...gave her the Potion and forgot that it's poisonous to humans."

"Johnny! Why...know that it's dangerous?...such a naughty boy!"

I could not stand to hear any more. In fact, I was too weak to stand at all. As I crashed to my knees, I was vaguely aware of the attention in the room shifting from scolding the boy who had saved my life to me. I lost consciousness.


End file.
